


Algorithm

by DeductionIsKey



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Powers, F/M, I Blame Supernatural That I'm in a Writing Block For ILP, I Made An Original Fic, Please Don't Kill Me, Will Mr. Deter Tide You Over?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeductionIsKey/pseuds/DeductionIsKey
Summary: Based on This Tumblr Prompt: "You're suddenly able to see numbers above people's heads that are counting down. One person you reach meets 0and.."-“Beep. Beep. Beep.”The constant beeping of the monitor was the first thing John heard. The first things he saw, were the numbers.





	Algorithm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry about not updating! Oops.. welp, I actually watching watching SPN like two weeks ago.. and the Marvel fandom just drifted away.. I will finish I promise, but for now I give you up 1,000 words of an AU I made. It's good, I promise.  
> ~Deduction

 

 

"Beep. Beep. Beep.”

The constant beeping of the monitor was the first thing John heard. The first things he saw, were the numbers.

-  
He’d sat up groggily, his back straining with apparent effort. The nurse,who’s name tag read ‘My name is _Eda_ ',immediately tutted, pushing him slightly back into the bed.

“You have to sit still.” She’d said, her voice the only thing resounding in his brain as he opened his eyes to darkness. “What? Why, uh-”

‘Oh, it’s normal you can’t see, dear.” Eda had said, sensing John’s growing panic at the still lingering darkness. “It was quite an ordeal.”

“Now, I need to check your eyes, if that’s okay?” John nodded his brief and confused consent, turning over his head to what sounded like her direction. As she hummed and shined a flashlight in his pupils, he winced at the headache he was currently nursing and then asked in a raspy voice. “What happened?”

A slight shine cleared the darkness of his temporarily deprived eyesight as she answered. “A car-crash, dear.” She tutted again, this time more to herself as she retreated from the bed. “Drunk driver, they think. It was a hit-and- run, I’m afraid. Darn hooligans couldn’t fuss up.” She patted his shoulder, and then turned away from the bed with a contented sigh. “Don’t you worry though. We’ve put all the things through evidence and you’ll be getting ‘em back soon. Evidence is when the po-”

“I know what evidence is.” John said, a bit irritated despite himself. “Where am I?” When she hummed concernedly, he quickly expanded his question. “I mean, like, what hospital?”

“Ah. Well, you’re in Saint Luke’s dear.” She spoke as if he was mute as well as blind, and needing a reassurance he wasn’t in the nuthouse. “Zone 8, I think?”

“You think?” John snapped, even as his vision flickered and shone a spot of light before disappearing. “You work here!”

She laughed. “That’s right, hun.” By the retreating sound of her probably obnoxious shoes and the swish of a fabric, she’d thrown on a coat. “I’ll be back in a bit, I’ve got to grab your meds.” She patted him again, and seemed simply amused by John’s obvious dislike of her. “Your eyesight should clear up soon.”  
-  
_His eyes did come back. But with them came the numbers._  
-  
Innocent and unassuming as they floated above Eda’s head, beeping out a cheery little number that read ‘73’ as it followed the figure of the nurse, who scarcely even noticed.

She noticed his staring though, and she paused, looking over to beam at him. “You can see how right?” John nodded dumbly, still staring as the numbers blinked down on him. “Good, good.” As she resumed her task, he watched as the little numbers shuddered and changed into a equally insane ‘72’. They were counting down.  
-  
The numbers were different for everyone. Nurse Eda, had a rather obnoxious pair of numbers, that blared a bright yellow as they jumped out at him as soon as she entered the room. Her replacement, who fortunately didn’t talk as much, had brown numbers, and John gazed with dread as they counted down. He imagined every tragedy imaginable, from death, to the end of someone else's.

He never had the chance to see what they counted down to, though. The nurses always left after a day, and the numbers, which consisted of hours, never counted down before then.  
-  
He couldn’t see his own numbers. He’d tried, had turned this way and that as the nurse watched with growing concern. He’d gotten some antipsychotic meds after that, in addition to his daily meals.  
-  
One of the nurses, -Ms. Drew?- pulled his wheelchair away from the mirror again with a badly concealed sigh. “Let’s get you to bed.” She suggested , with a smile. Her numbers, a infritating blue 28 blinked down at him, almost mocking his attempts at deciphering their meaning. “Yeah, fine.” He mumbled, throwing his head back in defeat. The blue numbers beeped out a 27 in reply.  
-  
He got out of the hospital that next week. His wife, Donna, had picked him up with a smile, not hearing his horrified gasp at the appearance of her numbers, as they blobbed and floated over her head, the form of a terrifying orange 8.  
-  
Their drive lasted six hours. It was full of tension as his wife babbled about one thing or another, while John counted down with a horrid conscience. 7,6,5. They stopped to eat, John forcing down most of the food with a choked grimace. 4,3,2. As they neared their house, Donna gripped his shoulder in concern. “Are you okay, John? You were kind of out of it during the ride here.” John mumbled a response, not wanting to see that accursed 2 that was currently floating above his wife’s head for the rest of his days.

An hour went by, the 2 quickly changing into a 1 as John looked on with dread. They had sat at the table while Donna had grabbed the cheesecake she’d made as his ‘Welcome home’ present. John had simply pushed his across his plate, setting a timer as the minutes went by so impossibly fast. 3 minutes. Two. One.

“I love you, Donna.” John said as he watched her cough and approach the sink on the opposite side of the kitchen. He knew what came next. “I’m so sorr-”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

His timer had rung, and he was out of time. He swallowed the fear, even as his eyes blurred with tears. Donna had coughed some more at the sink, and then retreated to the bathroom for some unknown demise. He shook his head, racing over to the door of the bathroom with a rushed and hurt expression. He knocked desperately, turning to the wall opposite him for the key, not even trying the lock. “Where a-”

He jumped, twisting around as someone patted his shoulder. “Oh. John?” Donna said, looking thoroughly not dead. “Are you okay?” She gestured to the key he was holding in his sweaty hand. “I’m fine, hun. It was just a sneeze.”

**-**  
**“The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend.”**  
**~Robertson Davies**


End file.
